I'm Not Okay
by Maybe I'm a Kinkajou
Summary: Isadora knew things would never be the same again. She just wanted...okay. Oneshot, IsadoraLegault, LEMON. That means secks, yo'. Also, plots are for the weak.


Whee, my first attempt at an FE lemon (the twincest fic was a lime). I must admit, I'm better at imagining sex than writing it, so if it sucks, I'm sorry. v.v;;;

IsadoraxLegault, because that pairing doesn't get nearly enough love from the fanbase here. Granted, I love HeathxLegault, but IsadoraxLegault still has a special place in my little fangirl heart.

Disclaimer: I don't FE. If I did, everyone would be gay for everyone else, Leila wouldn't die, Ephidel would be fluffing some hawt yaoi with Lloyd, and I'd strangle Nino halfway through the game.

Also, much thanks to my beta-reader, who also REALLY needs to post his IlyanaxMia fic because IT IS SECKS.

Ready? Let's go.

* * *

Isadora did not know how she ended up like this. 

The battle in castle Ostia had been like any other. In some cases, it had been easier than most. The wounds she had taken were minor, and Serra had healed them easily; no pain was left from them, the cleric's skill had improved. But still, something inside of the paladin gave. Her horse was in its stable, tethered and taken care of, but when she had reached that corridor, she lost it. She had wilted, crumbling to the floor and sobbing like a small child. It was embarrassing; she was knight, she was supposed to be able stand strong under pressure, like a graceful oak in a gale, but that only made her cry harder.

It didn't help that he had found her.

Isadora knew who it was that found her; only he would have the knowledge of people's emotions to not say anything. He had picked her up and carried her, armor and all, to her room. At least, she assumed it was her room; She did not doubt the roguish Legault would carry her to his room instead. But still, she clung to him, for he seemed to actually care. He sat on the bed with her, wrapping his arms around as tight he could, and listened to her cry. She poured out everything; how she wanted this whole journey to end, how she knew that Harken was dead and would never come home, and that if she could do things over again, she would've never agreed to come on this mission. Cowardly things that she would've never admitted to anyone but him, for Isadora knew that he understood fear.

Legault did not say it was going to be okay, for it was not going to be okay ever again. It was going to be different. The okay that they both knew was gone forever, and nothing but uncertainty laid ahead. Isadora's sobs had stopped after he said that; the pain in the assassin's voice was all too evident, and she knew that he missed his version of "okay" as much as she missed hers. Her clinging turned into more of a hug, of comfort and reassurance for him. She can almost feel him smile as he buries his face into her blue hair. They needed each other; both of them understood the other's dark side. Isadora knew why she was with him right now, but there was one thing that didn't understand: Why was the way Legault was rubbing her neck sending chills down her spine?

"Legault..." She murmured, burying her head in his shoulder. He stopped, obviously unsure of whether he had done something wrong; she had always called him "Master Legault", but never just Legault. She smilled; her lips flicked across his cheek in a light kiss. Legault lifted her head so he could look into her eyes.

Something at that moment changed between the two of them. Before, they had barely considered themselves friends. Isadora kissed him again, this time on the lips, taking their relationship down a path neither of them had thought of exploring.

Legault started it; his nimble fingers deftly undid every buckle that held her armor in place, already pulling her into a tight embrace as the armor clattered to the floor. For a moment, they just stood there, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it. The moment was brief, though, as they both came together in a deep kiss; Legault pressed through her lips with his tongue, tangling with hers and making her moan. The rest of their armor started coming off almost of its own will; they both tripped, still lip-locked, back onto the bed.

Legault on top. Isadora underneath him. Neither moved, merely looking into each other's eyes. The assassin's hand ran along the hem of her dress, and he murmured, "I don't want to break your trust in me. You're the only person that has ever trusted me, even if that trust is foolish."

"I want things to be okay," She answered, kissing his cheek.

"I can't make things okay."

"But, they will be different..."

She guided his hand under her dress, pressing it against the inside of her thigh. Legault paused, then took his other hand and slowly removed Isadora's dress, dragging his fingers across her skin teasingly, leaving her in nothing but her panties. They kissed again. Legault's hand quickly found its way to one of her breasts and started to gently massage it, sending more delightful waves of pleasure through Isadora; she couldn't help moaning.

They broke the kiss, both of them needing oxygen. Panting, she started to undo Legault's pants as he stripped off his shirt and threw it across the room. Isadora marvelled at the muscles that rippled across his chest; despite being a thief and a spy, he still looked very strong and surprisingly unscarred. Definitely a mark of how good he was.

The moment his pants were off, Legault was on top of her again, one hand on one breast while his mouth kissed and teased the other. He was driving her absolutely insane with his ministrations, making her moan and squeal in pleasure. She decided to try something of her own. Her hands snaked down to just below his waist, until she found the bulge in his underwear. She started stroking as much of it as she could reach, smiling as she heard the assassin grunt with pleasure.

That was last straw for Legault. He slipped his fingers inside the hem of her panties and the band of his underwear, pulling both of them down far enough for them to be shrugged off by their feet. Then, he positioned himself, gently brushing some of his hair away from his eyes.

"Once we go, we can't go back," He said, kissing her neck lightly. "I'll stop right now, Isadora..."

"Please, don't ever stop," She whispered.

Legault nodded and entered, slowly. There was barely any pain; Isadora had done it once before with Harken, at the heat of the moment after he had returned home from battle. Legault, though...Legault obviously had much more experience than Harken. He had teased her quite well, and she welcomed this.

He started slowly; up, down, up, down, back up. She felt the heat inside her body and between her legs grow; she started matching his actions with her hips. Moans soon came from her lips, soon dissolving into louder and louder squeals as they both increased speed. Everything peaked as each waves of pleasure and passion became more and more intense. Suddenly, something inside her tightened; she cried out Legault's name as she climaxed, and he let out his own yell as he reached his release.

All was silent, except for their panting. Legault eventually mustered the strength to remove himself from her, flopping back on the bed and allowing Isadora to snuggle and cling to him.

"Did I make everything okay?" Legault asked after a while.

"No," Isadora said sleepily. "You didn't. But...you made me feel okay."

She heard him laugh softly, and hold her closer to him. Tomorrow...tomorrow, things would be different.

But they would be okay different.

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Thanks for reading. R&R, please! 


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